Under The Mistletoe
by Zivacentric
Summary: 1st time Zibbs. Set in Seasons 3 & 4. Written for molly2012 for our 2nd Annual Very Merry Zibbs Holiday story exchange. Ziva has joined NCIS as the Mossad liaison. She goes to Gibbs after a case and ends up helping him build a cabin in the woods. They end up building something they both need far more, especially after some mistletoe is involved. Happy New Year!
1. Laying The Foundation

_HAPPY NEW YEAR! I wish real life had given me more time for writing and posting over the last few weeks, but, alas, it did not. However, some friends and I did engage in our 2nd Annual Very Merry Zibbs Holiday story exchange and this is my contribution to that._

_It was my great, great pleasure to write for my dear friend molly2012 and her prompt of "under the mistletoe" resulted in the story you are about to read. It is a multi-chap, but should be updated fairly quickly as she and the others have read it in its entirety - though I cannot help but do some additional obsessive editing before posting. (Those of you who know me are not surprised in the least by that. *snort*)_

_The story begins in Season 3 during the weekend following the case involving the young boy whose father was kidnapped ("Honor Code," Season 3x7) which aired 11/1/05; that was Ziva's third week with the team. (Her first episode in which she returned to NCIS as the Mossad liaison was "Silver War" which aired 10/11/05, Season 3x4.) The time-frame for this follows all of that in "real time" until we get to a reference to an ep near the end of this fic ("Suspicion," Season 4x12). That case will actually take place in this story before Christmas rather than after. The events of "Hiatus" will not take place in this universe and Col. Mann does not exist here._

_Hugs & love to molly2012 for the prompt and her unfailing support in too many ways to count, and to her, Sehrezad, S__exinSatin & _Woody2792 _for playing along with my Zibbs holiday fun idea. Please check out their stories when they are posted and THANKS for reading! =)  
_

* * *

Ziva drove carefully along the winding dirt road. She was going uncharacteristically slowly due to the deep ruts and potholes that marked the trail. It was really more of a path than a road and led to only one destination: land that was owned by one Leroy Jethro Gibbs on which he was building a cabin, if her intel was correct.

Which she had taken pains to see that it was.

It was early on a Saturday morning and he was not expecting her. However, after the case involving the young boy named Zach, she'd been driven to check on her new team leader.

It was nothing that he'd said – typically, he hadn't said anything at all of a personal nature following the closure of this case - but she sensed that old memories were surfacing.

Checking up on someone really wasn't any more characteristic of her than driving slowly.

However, there was something about Gibbs that pulled at her, touched her in ways that were completely new to her and that she didn't really understand.

It had been like that since the moment they met.

And while part of her was sure she should run the other direction from whatever this connection was, another part – the stronger part – was drawn towards it like a moth to a flame.

She just hoped she didn't get burned.

The dirt road ended rather suddenly in a small clearing in the midst of the forest. Ziva pulled her Mini up beside the silver truck that she recognized as belonging to Gibbs. Off to her left was a still-smoldering campfire and a small tent meant for one.

The sound of a hammer drew her gaze toward the cabin. It appeared that all of the support beams were in place, as was the roof. The back wall was completed and from the looks and sound of it, Gibbs was putting up one side wall of the small dwelling.

A stone fireplace and chimney were also completed on what looked to be the front wall of the cabin.

She shut off her vehicle and climbed out. As she closed her car door, Gibbs came around the corner of the cabin, hammer in hand, brows lowered as he clearly wondered darkly who was encroaching upon his space and solitude.

When he recognized his unexpected visitor, his look changed to one of confusion.

"Ziva?"

"Hello, Gibbs," she answered with a small smile.

"What the hell are you doing here? And how did you find me?"

Ziva shrugged lightly.

"I came to see you," she remarked, stating the obvious. "As to how I found you … "

A small smirk played about her lips.

"I am very good at my job … and I have known where you have spent most of your weekends beginning this summer since before I met you."

His eyebrows rose.

"But do not worry, Gibbs," Ziva moved to reassure him quietly, stepping closer. "Your secrets are safe with me."

She looked at him meaningfully.

"_All_ of your secrets."

There was just enough emphasis on the _all_ to let him know that she knew even more about him than the fact that he was building a cabin in the woods under the radar.

He just stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to say – and not completely certain he wanted anyone's company, especially not someone who appeared to know more about him than the people who'd known him far longer.

Ziva cut her gaze to the cabin, looking it over approvingly.

"Impressive," she offered sincerely.

Gibbs shook his head.

"Just a partially-built one-room cabin."

"Built by your own hands, by yourself," Ziva added with a small smile. "As I said, impressive."

When he said nothing further, Ziva asked, "May I look around?"

He shrugged carelessly.

"Not much to see, but look if ya want."

Ziva bit back a grin and meandered around the building. He didn't join her on her perusal. Instead, she came full circle around the cabin to find him sitting at the campfire holding what she presumed was a cup of coffee and poking at the embers with a long stick until the flames caught once more. She wandered over his direction.

"Would offer you coffee," he said, "but didn't think I'd need more than one cup."

She chuckled.

"That is understandable. You were not expecting any visitors, so why would you bring more than one cup?"

She detoured toward her car.

"However, I happen to have a recently-emptied travel mug with me and would appreciate a refill."

His lips twitched and she caught that before she completely turned away. A curve graced her own lips as she walked to her car, but she was now facing the other direction and he couldn't see it.

She got her mug out of her car and went back over to sit next to him on the log on which he was perched. Offering her cup, she accepted the dark fragrant brew with thanks.

They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping at their coffee and enjoying the quiet and the sounds of nature.

"It is nice here," Ziva offered in a hushed tone that fit the surroundings. "Peaceful. Quiet. Unlike the city."

He nodded.

"That's why I like it."

After another moment of silence, he asked, "Why are you here, Ziva?"

"I wanted to see how you are," she revealed softly.

"Fine," he answered almost tersely. "Why wouldn't I be?"

After gathering her thoughts – and her courage – Ziva responded.

"Our case this week," she began quietly. "I thought perhaps it was bringing back … memories."

He froze for a moment, then turned his head slowly and pinned her with his gaze. A lesser human would have quaked in their shoes. Though she would never admit to it, even Ziva felt a quickening of her heartbeat at being at the other end of that infamous stare.

"Whadya know about that?" he questioned, a hard line in his voice.

Ziva glanced at him, then back down at her coffee.

"Enough to know that this case may have roused painful memories of your daughter," she offered very gently.

After a pregnant silence, she added, "Enough to know to keep it to myself."

"You call this keepin' it to yourself?" he questioned sarcastically, though not meanly.

Her lips twitched.

"Perhaps I should have said I know enough to keep it between us," she reconsidered with a small smile.

Then she looked at him with inscrutable dark eyes.

"Secrets between us are nothing new."

Gibbs looked at her for a long moment, then shifted his eyes to the fire.

After brooding for a few moments, he broke the silence.

"You're not wrong."

Feeling her questioning stare, he clarified, "About the secrets."

He paused.

"And the memories."

Then he glanced at her.

"But I'm all right."

She looked into his face searchingly, then relaxed.

She spoke into her mug.

"I am glad," she offered simply, raising the travel cup to her lips for a sip of warm coffee.

After a silence that was not uncomfortable, Ziva shifted as though to rise to her feet.

"Well, I suppose I have interrupted you long enough. I should be going."

Gibbs looked at her, then away.

"Could do that," he agreed, staring at the cabin he had in progress. "Or you could grab a hammer, help me put up some walls."

It was a toss-up as to who was more surprised by that suggestion.

"Gibbs," Ziva laughed. "I have never built anything like this in my life."

The side of his mouth tugged up in his characteristic smile.

"First time for everything. I can teach you," he pointed out with a look in his eyes that was indecipherable.

"Yes, I am sure you could."

She had the unshakable sense he could – and would - teach her a lot of things.

After a moment that started to get a bit disconcerting, Ziva deliberately lightened the mood.

"Are you certain you have an extra hammer?" she asked, winking at him playfully.

He grinned.

"May not always have enough cups," he allowed with a nod to the side in that way he had, "but always have enough tools."

Ziva laughed out loud at that, the attractive sound lightly dancing on the morning air.

They got to work and both were pleased at the quick manner in which she caught on and with the progress they made. Though they took a break for lunch – which consisted of beans right out of the can – they still got all three of the remaining walls up before it got close enough to sunset that Gibbs said they would call it a day. Ziva agreed with a reluctance that surprised her.

She helped him put the tools away and clean up their work site. For some reason, she didn't quite know how to take her leave – and didn't really want to.

"Puttin' in the doors and windows tomorrow," Gibbs shared almost abruptly, but not unkindly. "Wouldn't say no to an extra pair of hands if you wanna learn that, too."

A pretty smile graced her lips … a smile that stirred him in ways he'd thought were long behind him.

"I would like that," she shared softly. Her expression brightened. "I will even bring lunch."

"Don't have to do that," Gibbs protested lightly.

"I know," Ziva assured him. "I would like to."

"Worried you'll get cold beans again otherwise?" he teased her.

She chuckled.

"The beans were just fine," she responded. "But since you are sharing your knowledge and giving up your quiet, it is the least I can do."

He acquiesced with a nod.

"Sounds good. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Ziva nodded back with a smile.

She climbed into her Mini Cooper and with a wave slowly made her way down the dirt road.

* * *

Early the next morning, Ziva arrived with a smile on her face, a willingness to work, a picnic basket packed with their lunch and an extra cup. The latter made Gibbs chuckle in a way that pulled a responding one from her and caused a flutter in her belly that she wasn't expecting.

When they took a break around mid-day, she pulled out turkey sandwiches and fruit, and then threatened to hold hostage a container of moist, delicious brownies she'd made on a whim unless he ate some of the fresh vegetables.

He lifted a brow.

"Do I look like a guy who refuses to eat vegetables to you, David?"

"There is nothing wrong with the way you look," Ziva said unthinkingly, then lightly blushed and glanced away as she thought about what she'd said. She rushed to add, "And I actually do not know much about how you eat other than coffee is one of the major food groups for you."

His lips twitched – and kept to himself the acknowledgment that he'd have likely bypassed the veggies without her intervention.

Like yesterday, they worked well together and got all the windows and both a front and a back door put in.

Neither one of them would ever willingly build a place with only one easy exit.

Gibbs looked up at the sky as it began darkening with just a hint of dusk.

"Probably shouldn't be on these mountain roads after dark until you're a little more familiar with them." Ziva's heart smiled as he implied that she'd be driving up here enough to become more familiar with the route. "Guess we'd better call it a day."

"We have to work in the morning. Are you staying here again tonight?"

He shook his head.

"I'll leave after I pack up the tent and supplies and make sure the fire's out."

Gibbs glanced toward the cabin.

"Far enough along now, I can just put most things inside rather than pack everything into the truck. Won't take long."

"I could help and then it will take even less long," Ziva offered. He started to refuse the help as he worried about her on the barely passable roads that were this far up into the mountains after dark. Before he could voice it, she added, "Then I can just follow you."

For reasons he refused to examine, he gave in and before long they had his tent, sleeping bag and other camping supplies tucked inside the cabin. He put the saw horses in there, too, but packed his tools into the truck. He'd never had anyone stumble across this place, but he didn't want his tools temptingly available if someone did.

Just before they climbed into their respective vehicles, Gibbs called out, "Hey, David?"

She looked up at him, one hand resting on the top of her door.

"Feel like laying floor next weekend?"

She couldn't stop the surprise that flew across her face, before that pretty smile lit up her expression once more.

That smile that put thoughts in his head that he had no business having.

What the hell was he thinking?

"Yes," she admitted, warmth trickling down from the vicinity of her heart to pool in her belly.

_Get a grip _she ordered herself.

Before he could overthink it, Gibbs told her, "Bring a bedroll if ya got one. It'll be a two-day job. No sense in you driving back and forth both days. We'll have enough down the first day that you can bunk in the cabin."

This time Ziva kept her surprise hidden, but she couldn't stop the quickening of her heart.

They had known each other only a short time, but she was very, very attracted to this man. She was going to have to be careful if she was going to spend much time alone with him as she could not imagine that he felt the same way – and was certain he wouldn't do anything about it even if he did.

She simply nodded in reply and with a _Goodnight _climbed into her car.

Gibbs shoved the myriad of emotions bouncing around inside him back into the box that was normally labeled "KEEP OUT" – or, rather, IN - and tossed her a wave before getting in his own truck to lead them carefully down the mountain ...

Hoping like hell he wasn't biting off more than he could handle by having her so temptingly close all to himself again next week.

_TBC ..._


	2. Shelter Within A Storm

_A/N: THANK YOU for the enthusiastic response to this story! So glad you're enjoying it. =) The reviews really mean a great deal to me, and the favorites and alerts are appreciated as well._

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Gibbs and Ziva made it to the cabin more weekends than not, only missing the two they were on call for work. She did bring along a sleeping bag and everything she'd need to spend the night when she arrived bright and early Saturday morning that second weekend. He normally drove up on Friday nights, and by the third one he started picking her up after work on his way out of town.

Gibbs steadfastly refused to examine why he'd invited this woman into this project – one he had started when he'd needed a goal and wood under his hands as he attempted to cope with the death of another woman. His agent. His friend.

At the hands of this woman's half-brother.

If one could see past his emotional walls, they would find that a powerful attraction to Ziva David had hit him like a ton of bricks the moment their eyes and hands had met in their initial greeting.

But, beyond that, he _liked _her … despite all odds, trusted her ... was comfortable with her in ways that he hadn't been in … well, since Shannon, if he was honest. And, truth was there were the darker areas of his life he was even more comfortable acknowledging with Ziva than he had been with his first wife simply because the Israeli had been there – had even seen and done more in her far-younger-than-him life than he could have imagined.

And over campfires and the occasional shot of bourbon as they sat in the dark relaxing after a day's satisfying work, the sharing went both ways.

Much to her amazement.

And his.

Then, one weekend in mid-December a thunderstorm put the first real crack in the walls they both kept carefully intact around the attraction they each felt for the other.

As they drove the mountain road to the cabin that Friday evening, a fierce storm blew in, seemingly out of nowhere.

"I did not think it was supposed to rain this weekend," Ziva said, staring out the window at the sheets of rain and jagged lightning.

"Wasn't," Gibbs shrugged, slowing down to drive more carefully as he could barely see.

They made it to the cabin without mishap and quickly unloaded the overnight bags and the cooler with fresh food and drinks that would complement the non-perishable items they'd begun leaving at the cabin.

Gibbs tried to get her to stay inside after the first trip, but she wouldn't hear of it. If they both went, there would just be one more load apiece to bring in which made more sense than him going back out twice. Still, before they were through, they were both soaked to the skin.

Unlike most women he'd known, Ziva just laughed at how wet they'd become.

Which made him chuckle, too.

She decided to go ahead and go to the bathroom before changing into the dry, soft clothes she would sleep in, as she reasoned she couldn't get much more soaked. She grabbed the plastic bag they kept near the back door containing everything needed for relieving oneself in the woods and headed out.

While she was gone, Gibbs started a fire in the fireplace, which was a welcome sight when she returned.

He headed out to the "bathroom" himself and she took that opportunity to change her clothes. Like most men, he was quicker with his business than she'd been with hers and he walked in just as she was pulling her shirt down over her gorgeous naked back.

His breath caught in his chest and his lower body stirred.

"Sorry," he mumbled, breaking Rule 6 and turning to step back out the door.

"It is all right," Ziva stopped him, pulling her shirt down the rest of the way. "I am finished."

She turned to look at him with a reassuring smile. Her own heart started pounding when she caught the desire that still registered in those mesmerizing blue eyes of his. Their gazes caught and held for a breathtaking moment.

Ziva was the first to turn away. Clearing her throat, she thanked him for starting the fire and set about laying out her bedroll and blankets so they'd have a comfortable place to sit in front of the warming, comforting flames.

Taking a deep breath and a tight grip on his libido, Gibbs reached for his tent to set it up outside as usual. Their normal pattern involved him sleeping outside while she slept inside.

"What are you doing?" Ziva asked with her brows lowered.

"Same thing I always do – settin' up my tent."

"Gibbs. It is pouring rain out there," Ziva stated the obvious. Just then a bright jolt of lightning lit up the sky, shortly followed by a boom of thunder loud enough to make her jump slightly. "The lightning is too close to be safe and besides, there is plenty of room for both of us in here."

Yeah, but … could he handle being this close to her tonight and not touch her as he'd been so tempted to do over the last six weeks more often than he would admit even if someone held a gun to his head, especially after seeing more of her dusky skin bathed in the golden light from the fire? That was the question he was asking himself.

Ziva could feel the slight tension born of mutual desire simmering on the air and deliberately lightened the mood.

"We are both adults, so I do not see a problem," she reasoned before teasing him with a gleam in her eye. "But if you feel your virtue is in jeopardy, you could always set up your puppy tent in here and I promise not to disturb you."

He huffed out a chuckle in spite of himself.

"Pup tent, Ziva."

She looked at him with her head cocked rather adorably to the side in slight confusion.

"It's called a pup tent," he repeated.

The look stayed on her face.

"Why?"

"When they were first used in the military back in the 1800's, guys joked they were only big enough to fit puppies. Name just stuck."

"So, why can I not call it a puppy tent?" she asked logically. "That seems equally correct."

His characteristic grin tugged up one side of his mouth.

"When you put it that way, guess you're right," he admitted.

She gave a satisfied nod and turned back to finishing smoothing out her bedding. Without turning to look at him, she made a different suggestion, putting a smile into her voice to cover her jumping heart rate.

"If you decide to lay over here by the fire without the protection of your tent, I promise to keep my hands to myself."

_Or at least try._

"You sure?" he asked hesitantly.

"That I can keep my hands to myself?" she asked with forced nonchalance without looking at him.

His face heated.

"Meant, you sure about me sleeping in here - ?"

Oh.

Ziva stood and turned to look at him. She kept her dark gaze unreadable, but her voice was light and calm.

"Yes, Gibbs, I am sure. Now, get out of those wet clothes while I get the rest of the bedding laid out." She walked to the corner where he kept his tent and sleeping bag during the week. She threw him one of those winks of hers that made his dick twitch. "Do not worry. I will not peek while you change."

_Or at least try not to_ she repeated to herself privately to herself while she set about rearranging her bedding to accommodate his. She normally slept longways in front of the fire, but since they were both going to lie here, she arranged it so their feet were near the fireplace and their heads further in the room.

She put as much space as she could between the sleeping bags, just because that seemed the right thing to do. Though, there wasn't much space to be had.

Ziva winged a quick prayer to the heavens that she could keep her promise.

She listened to the rustle of his clothing as he got changed into sweats and a long-sleeved black t-shirt with an old NIS t-shirt layered over it. When she could tell from the lack of movement that he was finished, she turned around.

"How about some dinner?" she suggested, determined to ignore the fact that sharing the cabin tonight would feel far more intimate than their previous weekends here.

"Sounds good," he responded quietly, laying out his clothes to dry.

Using the fireplace, she heated some thick stew she'd made the night before to bring along this weekend and pulled out a loaf of sourdough bread she'd picked up at a bakery on her lunch break today.

He started coffee percolating in the fire and got them both some water from the jugs they kept here. He also sat the bourbon within reach, but privately resolved to keep that to a minimum or he'd run a greater risk of failing to keep his own hands to himself.

They ate in near silence except for his compliments to the chef, which she accepted with a graceful appreciation.

After they'd each had a mug of coffee with a short shot of bourbon on the side, Ziva announced she was turning in.

"Goodnight, Gibbs," she said softly before rolling over on her side and snuggling into her pillow and bedding.

"'night, Ziver," he returned quietly, using the nickname that had popped out unexpectedly one weekend and which he only used when they were alone.

The affectionate name put a smile on her face as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Gibbs sat up a little longer sipping a second cup of coffee and waiting for the fire to die down a little further. He couldn't help but notice that the uncertainty he'd felt at sharing the night with her in such close proximity to her had given way to a peaceful contentment that had been missing in his life nigh on twenty years.

* * *

It rained the next day, as well, so they busied themselves with some inside projects and then relaxed in front of the fire listening to the pleasant sound of rain falling on the copper roof he'd chosen for the cabin. He'd picked one coated in green paint to blend into the forest, but his reasoning for choosing the copper made a lot of sense for a place like this when he explained it to her: corrosion resistance, durability, low maintenance and radio frequency shielding, among other things.

They talked about the further work he had planned and he encouraged her input. She had good ideas, and they were both on the same page with no electricity as that made this place off the grid, especially when you added in the fact that there was no cell reception here.

After a while, they each drank a mug of tea while reading in front of the fire, broke for dinner, and then picked their books back up. They turned in early, once again side by side in front of the fireplace.

The next morning, Ziva came slowly awake to find that she'd snuggled up against something warm during the night.

Or, rather, some_one_.

Instinctively, she rubbed her face against the shoulder under cheek with a small sound of contentment, then stiffened slightly as she became more aware of her surroundings and realized her head was on Gibbs' shoulder and his arm was wrapped firmly around her waist. She slowly tried to extricate herself from under his arm. He tightened it reflexively for a moment, which made her look up to find his eyes open and a slight smile on his face.

He loosened his grip and she sat up.

"Morning," he offered in a low voice that stirred her belly.

"Good morning," she returned softly, dipping her chin as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

There was an awkward moment.

"I am sor-" she started before he interrupted her.

"Don't be," he directed in a husky voice, laying a finger over her mouth.

As though he couldn't help himself, his fingertip brushed lightly over her soft lips and his eyelids dropped halfway closed in an attempt to hide the flash of desire he knew was there.

Then the ghost of a half-smile tugged at his mouth.

"Best night's sleep I've had in a long time," he admitted in a low voice.

Ziva ordered herself to breath and try to relax.

"Me, too," she revealed softly with a shy smile curving her mouth.

In tacit agreement, they didn't talk about it any further. Instead, they got up and started their day, neither able to decide if they were happy or disappointed that the sun was out and there was no rain to keep them inside.

When Gibbs dropped her off at her apartment that night, for the first time he tugged her to him for a one-arm hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned into him with an internal sigh of pleasure just for a moment before husking goodnight and exiting his truck.

He sat there for a moment watching to make sure she got in safely as he always did. If he sat there a little longer than usual staring at her windows, well … no one had to know, right?

Except the subject of his thoughts who was peeking unobtrusively around the curtains in her darkened bedroom, wishing he wouldn't go.

_TBC ..._


	3. Unexpected Reinforcement

_A/N: This comes with a =) for molly2012 as it contains one of her favorite parts of the story and a special HAPPY BIRTHDAY shout-out to JPNCIS. Thanks so much for your faithful R&R. :o)_

* * *

Work kept them late the following Friday, too late to make the hour-long drive to the cabin after an exhausting week. However, they had Monday off in observance of the Christmas holiday, so they still had extra time to spend there. When Gibbs swung by Ziva's place early on Saturday morning, she hopped into his truck with an extra bounce to her step and announced they had to make a stop on their way out of town.

When he just raised an eyebrow at her command, she blushed a little and added, "Please."

He just smiled that smile of his and followed her directions. They pulled up in front of a small shop not far from her apartment and climbed out of the truck. As they entered, bells jingled pleasantly overhead and an elderly man stepped out from behind the counter.

"_Shalom_, Ziva. I see you have come for your –"

"Package," Ziva broke in before he could say more, wanting it to be a surprise. "Yes, we have, Mr. Markowitz. Thank you for letting me keep it here this week."

"No problem, my dear. And who is your friend?" The shopkeeper eyed Gibbs from behind round spectacles with a gaze that was at once shrewd and friendly.

Before Ziva could speak, Gibbs held out a hand. "Jethro Gibbs."

"Nice to meet you, Jethro Gibbs," the other man said with a firm handshake. "Alan Markowitz."

Gibbs nodded in greeting and looked around the shop. It appeared to have a hodgepodge of items, yet managed to be inviting and intriguing.

Murmuring that he'd just get his nephew Matthew to help bring out her purchase, Mr. Markowitz disappeared into the back.

Gibbs looked at Ziva curiously, trying to stare her into giving up her secret, but it didn't work. He was shaking his head at her with a twitch of his lips when a young man came wheeling out a cart holding a long, cylindrical package wrapped in dark heavy plastic. He pushed it outside so Gibbs and Ziva could load it into the back of the truck. They secured it with bungee cords that Jethro kept in the vehicle and Matthew produced a red plastic flag that he pinned to the end of the item where it stuck out over the top of the tailgate.

After they thanked the man for his help, Gibbs and Ziva continued their journey to the cabin. His best guess was that a rug or carpet of some kind was under that plastic, but Ziva refused to divulge any information.

He did, however, get her to open up about stumbling across the shop her first weekend in the States while out for a walk getting the lay of the land of her new neighborhood, and making a friend in Mr. Markowitz. They had initially connected over their common Jewish heritage, though their histories were very different. Mr. Markowitz's family had emigrated from Hungary to the United States in 1938 when he was just two years old. Even though he had never traveled to the country of Ziva's birth, they each still felt like a welcome connection to Israel for the other. And, Ziva admitted to Gibbs, it was nice to have someone with whom to speak Hebrew.

He smiled to himself at the easy way she had with some people, collecting them into her circle, while with others she was as well-protected as a "porcuswine" - as she'd referred to Tony, once upon a mixed-up idiom.

After arriving and taking their overnight bags into the dwelling they'd built together, they unloaded the heavy, bulky package. Ziva led the way and guided them into laying it on the floor of the cabin near the fireplace.

"Go ahead – open it," Ziva said at last, almost bouncing from nerves and excitement.

Gibbs pulled out his knife and sliced open the plastic. Once he'd done that, he pulled the protective covering away to reveal the thickest, softest, fluffiest rug he'd ever felt.

Ziva watched him nervously, before blurting out, "Merry Christmas."

Jethro paused and looked up at her. Today was Christmas Eve, but it had been just another day to him for so long that he hadn't even really thought about it.

And he sure hadn't gotten her anything.

Even though he was pretty sure Hanukkah began tomorrow. Or the next day. Or something like that.

"Didn't realize we were exchanging presents, Ziver."

"We are not," she informed him. He looked up at her with his brows raised. "I am giving you one."

He looked at her.

"If you prefer, you can think of it as a gift for the cabin," she pointed out, hoping he didn't think she'd overstepped her place or hate what she'd chosen.

He looked at her for a second longer, then gave her a full smile that had her heart singing.

"Well – aren't ya gonna help me roll it out?" he asked.

With a happy grin she did just that, unable to stop her hands from running through the light beige softness that resembled faux fur, but did not bring to mind an animal.

He passed his own hand over it, enjoying the feel – and it was all he could do not to tumble down onto her when she stretched out on it with a happy sigh and closed her eyes.

"I saw this in Mr. Markowitz's shop and I knew it would be perfect right here," she breathed out. Then she turned her head and looked at him. "Yes?"

It looked perfect, all right – especially with her on top of it … though his mind stripped her naked in a heartbeat.

And then it looked even more perfect.

He forced a swallow.

"Perfect," he echoed huskily in agreement.

She beamed.

"I am glad you like it."

They threw away the plastic and set about doing some of the work they had planned for this weekend. Late afternoon, they decided to run to the market in the nearest town to pick up steaks and potatoes to fix in the fireplace. The grocery was more like a General Store and was the place they frequented when they needed to buy something when they were up here.

Elmer and Betsy Daniels ran the store and greeted Ziva and Gibbs by name and with pleasure. After a little small talk, the agents made their way around the store picking up what they needed. As they neared the door after checking out, the Daniels' grandson popped up from behind a large barrel that held dill pickles.

It was a good thing Ziva had seen him squirrel away back there while they were shopping, or she might have tackled him to the ground in surprise.

"Hello, Benjamin," Ziva offered with a friendly smile. "And what are you up to?"

Both Gibbs and Ziva enjoyed chatting with the bright, mischievous boy who was being raised by his grandparents.

"Collecting tolls," he announced authoritatively.

"Tolls? What kind of tolls?" Ziva asked, playing along.

"The kind that will make the door open so you can get out," he informed them.

Ziva raised both eyebrows and risked a glance at her companion who was trying not to chuckle out loud.

"And how much is this toll?" Ziva inquired with good-natured suspicion.

"Well," Benjamin drawled. "You have a choice."

The devilish glee in his eyes told Ziva she might not like either choice, but she continued to play along.

"All right – out with it. What is the cost?"

"Five bucks … or you kiss under this." All but cackling, Benjamin pointed a walking stick toward the ceiling where a sprig of mistletoe hung right over their heads.

Ziva's eyes froze on the greenery as her mind's eye played out the fantasy of kissing Jethro right here and now as she'd dreamed of doing too many times to count. Gibbs glanced up, then down at the boy.

"You drive a hard bargain, son," he told him.

"I know," Benjamin said, grinning.

Ziva started to fumble in her pocket for some money while trying unsuccessfully to wrench her mind off the idea of kissing Gibbs and ignoring the fact that she could feel him staring at her thoughtfully.

"Ziver," Gibbs said softly, putting just enough command in it to freeze her hand and lift her head.

"Yes, Gibbs?" she whispered.

"Save your money. I got this."

Holding her gaze, he slowly bent his head toward hers, giving her plenty of time to back away if she wanted.

She didn't.

He lightly brushed his lips over hers, then made a second pass that was a soft press of his mouth against hers. She caught his lips and returned the kiss, not daring to breathe for fear that she'd wake up and find she was dreaming.

Slowly, Gibbs lifted his head and when Ziva finally opened her eyes, she found him smiling at her.

"Okay, you paid your toll. You can go through now," Benjamin announced, slightly dejected that he hadn't made five dollars.

So far, all the regular customers had paid up because they knew the boy was carrying out every money-making scheme he could think of to save enough for a new bike – though he assumed they handed over the money because kissing was just … _ewwww_.

The sound of his voice brought them out of their trance.

With a distracted smile for the boy, the couple exited the store.

Suddenly, Ziva put down her packages and pushed Gibbs up against the building and captured his mouth in a hot, fierce, territorial kiss that threatened to knock his socks off. After a moment of being frozen in surprise, Jethro let go of his own packages and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her back just as passionately. It was like a dam had burst and for a few wild, wonderful moments, they were swept away from all the reasons that made this complicated.

When they finally came up for air, Ziva slid her hands down to his chest from where they'd somehow ended up wrapped around his neck.

"Stay right there," she ordered him in a breathy command.

He gave a slight nod, barely able to stand on his own two feet let alone contemplate doing something other than what she'd directed.

Ziva slipped back into the store and called for Benjamin. When he appeared, she pulled a five dollar bill from her pocket and squatted down in front of him. She handed it to him with a wink.

"But you paid your toll," he pointed out honestly, gripping the money like he was afraid she'd take it back.

"Yes, but I believe in this case we still owe you," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Benjamin just looked confused, but his grandmother looked on from the counter with a knowing gleam in her own eyes.

Ziva tapped the young man on the nose and stood.

"Wait!" he requested before she could leave.

He ran off and came running back with something tucked behind his back.

With that mischievous look on his face that she adored, he announced, "For ten bucks, you can have your own."

And he held out another sprig of mistletoe.

Ziva threw back her head and laughed delightedly.

"I like the way you think," she told him. "It is a deal."

After they exchanged money for greenery, Ziva impulsively hugged the young man and stepped back out onto the porch of the store to find Jethro exactly where she'd left him.

Tucking her purchase unobtrusively into her coat pocket, she stepped tantalizingly close and brushed her nose across his cheek, thrilled with the way he struggled to swallow.

"You have been a very good listener," she purred. "I believe you deserve a reward."

"Yeah?" he managed. "What kind?"

Ziva stretched up on tip-toe and scraped her teeth along his lower lip.

"That is for me to know and you to find out," she informed him seductively.

With a wink she picked up her packages and led them to his truck.

He'd never driven faster up the mountain lane that led to his cabin.

_TBC ... ;)_


	4. Insulating

They spoke not a word as they drove back to the cabin, both lost in their own thoughts, a small smile playing about Ziva's very kissable lips.

They entered the house that had become their shared weekend home. The silence that continued between them as they worked together to put away their purchases was at once comfortable and unsettling, with a sizzle running beneath it that had both their hearts pounding.

Jethro stoked the fire while Ziva cleaned and wrapped the potatoes in foil so he could tuck them into the embers for slow cooking. They would take longer than the steak, so she figured they should get them started – while she was still able to consider such a mundane task.

While he took care of nestling the potatoes into just the right spot, she poured them each a generous splash of bourbon, hid the mistletoe nearby, kicked off her boots and came to sit beside him on the rug as he stared into the flames as though searching for answers to questions not yet asked.

"Guess we should talk," Gibbs observed in a low voice as he accepted his glass from her with a nod of thanks and then raised it to his lips.

The care and concern she discerned in his tone kept it just shy of sounding gruff. She sensed he was even more off-balance than she was, which made her want to wrap her arms around him and soothe him.

Given that she'd been more a soldier than a woman before getting to know Jethro, this was a little surprising in a night already near-to-bursting with the unexpected.

Though, to be honest, this was far from the first time she'd had such an urge where this man was concerned.

Ziva was quiet for the space of about three thoughtful heartbeats, then drained her glass in one swallow.

"You know," she drawled, placing her glass off to the side. "I am really more a woman of action than of words."

Gibbs' head swiveled toward her. She gave him a sultry smile that made his pants tight.

"Ziva," he started.

"And I think it is time for your reward," she announced in a provocative voice, reaching into the shadows by the fireplace and pulling out her purchase from young Benjamin.

She dangled it in front of his face just long enough for him to see what it was, then held it above his head.

He snorted out a light laugh that skittered down her spine and inflamed her senses even more.

And then she took his mouth with hers and laughter was the furthest thing from either of their minds.

As before, the kiss went on and on, spinning out, going deeper … connecting them on more than a physical level.

And it rocked them both.

Several kisses later, she pulled slightly back to take in air, then beaded a line of kisses along his chiseled jaw and down his neck. The hand holding the mistletoe came to rest over his shoulder.

"Ziva," he tried again thickly, his brain fogged with desire.

"Yes, Jethro?" she asked in a throaty murmur, leaning even more closely into him and nuzzling her face into his throat.

His head swam and for the life of him he had no idea what he'd been about to say.

"Uh …"

She grinned and then took pity on him. After pressing a kiss to his neck, she tilted her head back and looked into his eyes.

"Yes?" she prompted warmly.

Looking into her gorgeous face with desire swimming in those beautiful brown eyes did not help, so he dropped his eyelids for a moment and shook his head slightly.

"This'll change everything," he finally managed. Opening his eyes and snagging her gaze, he added, "Don't want to make a mistake with you. And worried about work."

Ziva looked at him for a long moment, considering what a good man he was … and resigned herself to once again not having what she longed for.

Her life in Mossad, her life as her father's daughter had banished dreams of a romantic sort into the most secret recesses of her heart, rarely seeing the light of day.

Oh, she'd had her share of meaningful and casual sex, but this attraction, complete with a sense of trust, affection and companionship, felt like ... far more.

A pregnant silence reigned for a few moments.

"Perhaps we could just have tonight," Ziva suggested softly, glancing down at the shadows dancing on the floor between them and the fire.

"That all you want?" he asked, his voice unreadable.

Ziva took a breath and gathered her courage for what she was about to admit.

"No. But I want you enough to take whatever you feel you can give me."

He stayed silent as his mind whirled, his head struggling with something that felt suspiciously like his heart – not to mention certain parts of his anatomy that were begging to do his thinking for him.

Her eyes shifted to the fire and she drew back slightly. He could feel her withdrawing in his silence and that was not what he wanted. He just wanted her to be sure. Them both to be sure.

"You are worried about the director," she presumed flatly, making a move to slide further away.

Perhaps that was her first guess because _she_ was worried about Jenny, but not for the same reason she assumed he was. She figured he did not want to hurt his former lover by taking up with her friend, while she was concerned Jenny would make life difficult for them out of the mixed feelings and jealousy Ziva knew simmered beneath the redhead's cool surface where this man was concerned.

He caught her chin in his hand and turned her face back to his. Her eyes were guarded in a way they hadn't been in weeks, not with him.

"No," he disagreed firmly. "That's _not_ what I'm worried about. Worried about this getting complicated because I want more than one night with you. Worried about screwing up 'cause God knows I've done that before. Got a rule about mixing dating with coworkers for a reason."

Ziva released a breath and forced herself to relax.

"Ah, yes. Rule … 12, is it not?" she asked with a faint, slightly sad curve to her lips.

"Yeah," he informed her distractedly, his eyes on her lips as his thumb rubbed across them, unable to help himself. Then he shook his head at himself. "And, Christ, Ziva – I'm almost twice your age."

"That bothers you," she guessed, not unkindly.

"It doesn't bother you?" he asked in some disbelief.

With a small smile, she shook her head no.

"I am older on the inside than I look on the outside," she revealed quietly, her eyes shifting off his with a faraway look in them.

Then, she visibly brought herself back to the present and looked into his handsome face once more.

"To be honest, I believe we balance each other well in many respects, including our ages – both on the inside and the outside," she shared softly. Then her eyes took on a sexy gleam and her mouth quirked enticingly. "And then there is the fact that I find you incredibly physically attractive, regardless of the difference in our years."

"Even with the gray hair?" he asked dubiously.

"Especially because of the gray in your hair," she husked warmly, brushing her fingertips through the silvery strands.

Gibbs gave a slight shake of his head, as though he didn't know what to make of that. She just smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. His hand smoothed up her back to tangle in her long, glossy curls. He could feel her thinking and waited for her to speak.

"What if …" Her voice drifted off as she questioned if she should continue.

"'What if' what?" he prompted quietly.

"What if we kept our private lives and our work lives separate?" she asked in a low voice. She looked up at him. "At work, I would be a liaison functioning as an agent and you would be the team leader. When we can get time away, we could come here and be … together. We could just keep it between us."

"That the kind of relationship you really want?" he asked, searching her eyes.

She shrugged lightly, both certainty and uncertainty banked in her eyes.

"I know that I want you and that I like being with you here, like this," she told him. "I am willing to do whatever you think is best with work to make that happen."

She paused for a moment.

"And I will admit that I am worried about what Jenny would do if she found out. She might even go as far as to terminate my position."

His eyes snapped to hers and hardened.

"What are you talking about?"

She released a _pfft_ sound.

"You do not expect me to believe that you have not noticed she is having third thoughts about leaving you all those years ago?"

"Second thoughts," he responded absently, more focused on the meaning behind her words, but correcting her use of the phrase. He sensed her cocking her head at him and glanced at her. "It's second thoughts."

Ziva shook her head.

"She was having second thoughts when I first met her in Cairo," Ziva revealed surprisingly. "She is on at least her third round of regrets where you are concerned, if not more."

Gibbs shook his head and started to deny it. Ziva interrupted him.

"I am right about this, Jethro. A woman knows these things." She paused and laid her palm on his chest before sliding it slowly up to his shoulder, savoring the feel of him beneath her hand. "Especially when she is also completely fascinated by the man in question."

He continued to search her gaze, but found nothing but truth there.

"Wanted you since the day we met," he admitted. "If we do this, maybe keeping it away from work is best for now, but don't want you to think I'm ashamed of you. I'm not."

She gave him a genuine smile as she leaned into him once more, relieved that her feelings were reciprocated.

"I believe you," she assured him softly. "You are concerned and honorable. Those are two of the things I find most …" Ziva searched a moment for the right word. "Charming about you."

"Charming?" he all but snorted. "You fall on your head recently?"

She chuckled alluringly.

"No," she denied. "You are very a charming man, Special Agent Gibbs – you are simply selective as to when that side of you is revealed."

Then she narrowed her eyes at him playfully in that way of hers.

"But if, as you say, 'we do this,' you had better become even more selective. I do not share well."

"No sharing," he promised solemnly with that characteristic smile of his, bumping his nose into hers with a light-hearted warmth.

"Along those lines," he began, guiding the conversation back into more serious waters. "None of this is about Jen." His tone was nothing but certain as he sought to convince her. "She burned any bridges we might have had when she left without even telling me she was going. Got over that a long time ago. And I think you're wrong there, but doesn't matter to me if you're right."

He slid his hand from her chin along her jaw and speared his fingers into her hair.

"What matters is us. You matter to me," he told her with no room for doubt in his voice, before bending his head slowly to take her mouth in a kiss that started soft and unhurried, then melted into hotter and deeper, the slide of his tongue against hers prompting a moan from her throat.

"Jethro?" she mumbled against his lips after a long few moments of reveling in the attraction simmering between them.

He somewhat-reluctantly lifted his head and looked into her beautiful face, mesmerized by the emotion darkening her eyes.

"You matter to me, too," she whispered. She raised her fingertips to his cheek. "And I want this. I want you."

Then she closed her eyes and dipped her chin before turning her gaze to the fire.

"But it seems only fair to tell you that it feels as though there is more than physical attraction between us, at least for me." She paused for a moment, then pushed herself to say the rest. "And while that is new for me, I welcome it … though perhaps you would not."

He allowed her words to soak into him, could feel them healing something inside him that had been wounded for a long, long time. Then, he raised her cautious gaze to his with a gentle finger under her chin ...

Chucked Rule 12 out the window …

And took a leap into the unknown toward what he wanted.

What he needed.

"Me, too. All the above."

And something inside of her that she'd feared broken began to strengthen, to unfurl within her, as well.

The happy smile that slowly curved her lips was nothing less than enchanting and he couldn't take his eyes off her … until he was forced to close them as she brought their mouths together once more.

The kiss went on and on. In unspoken agreement, they both knew they'd done enough talking for now. Ziva's world spun as Jethro laid her out on the soft rug and stretched out alongside her, resting half over her.

He reached for the mistletoe that had fallen unnoticed beside her and held it above her head. He pulled back with a tender, teasing version of his half-smile tugging up one side of his lips.

"Maybe we could fasten this in your hair," he decided, kissing her again, both of them managing to grin at the same time.

As he left her lips to wander over her cheek and down to the base of her throat, she wondered an errant thought out loud in a seductive tone that had him even harder before her actual words registered.

"Perhaps I could make an outfit out of it and you could kiss me everywhere you find it."

He groaned out loud as all the blood in his body rushed south.

"Think we can manage that tonight without the outfit," he breathed. Then he glanced up at her roguishly from where his tongue was exploring the valley between her breasts. "But feel free to be on the lookout for one."

She laughed delightedly and hugged him to her. She loved the way they enjoyed each other, were just content together … and tried not to think about just exactly what she sensed she ultimately wanted with this smart, strong, handsome, sexy, loyal, dependable man.

Everything.

She'd known him all of three months and already knew she wanted everything.

Ziva pushed that aside for now and gave herself up to relishing his touch and the way he entrusted himself to hers.

Slowly, they undressed each other, pausing to explore each new patch of skin … finding those spots that made the other gasp … moan … whimper … _need_.

Eventually, after he had indeed kissed her, touched her over every inch of her delectable body, he rose above her. She instinctively, trustingly welcomed him between her thighs and held him close.

Looking down at her captivating expression as she was lost in the throes of their mutual passion, her dusky skin turned even more golden by the dancing flames nearby, he nearly spent himself right then and there. Grabbing for the last of his control, he commanded her to open her eyes.

As soon as she did, he readied himself at her moist, swollen entrance and pushed just far enough inside to feel her wetness rush to bathe his staff. Her pulse throbbing at her core, Ziva breathlessly begged him to finish this.

To complete her.

To complete them both.

"Jethro. _Please._"

He pushed slightly further inside and then withdrew, prompting a moan and then a whimper of protest from her. He teased her with those small movements a little longer, gradually going just a little deeper, wanting to make sure she was ready for all of him. Then, at last, he flexed his hips and plunged inside her to the hilt.

She gasped his name as he claimed her, even as he was claimed in return.

Finding their rhythm as though they were born for each other, they rode the wave of their passion with wild abandon until they could no longer hold back and crashed into completion together.

For long moments, they lay together, thundering hearts gradually calming to a gallop to a trot to a slow thud. Eventually, their breath evened and their limbs relaxed into each other until not even a whisper could have snaked between them.

When he would have moved off her, she stayed him with a husky murmur.

"Do not move. Please."

Not really wanting to move anyway, he relaxed back down onto her, his cheek pillowed on her soft, gentle breasts.

Eventually, Ziva released a happy sigh and carded the fingers of one hand through the silky strands of his enticing silver and dark hair that shimmered in the firelight, while her other hand swept slowly up and down his back.

"Jethro?" she murmured drowsily.

"Mmmm?"

"How does the idea of planting mistletoe around the cabin strike you?"

He heard the smile in her voice and she felt his grin against her skin.

"How does the idea of planting a lot of it strike you?" he asked suggestively.

Her delightful laugh danced on the air and brushed over him like warm silk.

"Well. Perhaps I will be able to make my outfit after all."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for continuing to read and I certainly hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. About 3 more chaps will finish this one out, I think. (There, there, AA - stop rolling around in laughter or you'll start coughing like a seal again. ;D) Now that it's M, y'all may need to watch for the updates. _

_And here's a special HUG for WithTheGrain who emailed me with a very perceptive, um, request that went something like, "Enough fiddling! Post it already!" Does she know me or what? ;) Thanks, my friend, for the nudge and for the warm, fuzzy feeling that comes when your friends know and love you - and are even willing to give you an affectionate Gibbs-slap when it wouldn't come amiss. ;)_


	5. Building Without A Blueprint

_A/N:__ My apologies for the delay in this update. This was a chapter that was not pre-written, but reminded me insistently that it had occurred to me in the planning and wanted to be included. ^_^ Between the usual RL demands and impulsively going a few hours away to visit my brand new baby nephew *happy smile* this past long weekend, this writing took longer than I'd hoped._

_And I may have been overly fretting about it._

_Who, ME? O.o_

_A few shout-outs are in order here. First, to **mmkbrook** with THANKS for helping me stay close to Ziva's Jewish roots courtesy of sharing her own and for letting me know she looks forward to my updates. :) Next, to **molly2012** for the initial inspiration for her story, as well as her patience and understanding as I've made some revisions for the posted version. =) To **abstractartist**, a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY! *mmmMWAAAH!* =D ____And last, but certainly not least, to **WithTheGrain** for her oh-so-gentle, lovingly-impatient wee little nudge to get this next chapter posted. ;) HUGS to you all. xoxoxo_  


___Happy reading and thanks for continuing this journey with me. This chapter picks up just after the last one. You may be happy to know that the next two (and final) chapters of this one are ready to go ... except for a little tweaking, of course. ;o)  
_

* * *

The next night found Ziva and Gibbs back on the soft, fluffy rug in front of a cheery, crackling fire, though this time she was straddling his waist as he laid face down enjoying the backrub he was receiving.

It was Christmas Day, but Chanukah had also begun at sundown tonight. Since they had tomorrow off in observance of the federally-observed Christmas holiday which had fallen on a Sunday, they'd previously decided to stay until Monday and Jethro had talked Ziva into coming prepared this weekend with some typical Chanukah foods. He'd wanted to experience that with her, learning more about her in the process, though he couldn't have put into words exactly why.

Well, last weekend he couldn't have.

She'd tried to duck out of it, feeling inexplicably uncertain, explaining that Chanukah was really one of the lesser holidays in Judaism and that, while her cultural identity was important to her, she was honestly not that religious. However, he'd been persistent and she'd eventually caved in to his request.

So, tonight they'd enjoyed beef brisket with carrots, onions and potatoes slow-cooked most of the day in a cast iron Dutch oven over white-hot coals in the fireplace; the potato pancakes called _latkes_ fried in a heavy skillet placed on a grill over the fire; jelly donuts she'd purchased at a Jewish deli back in D.C.; applesauce; and a winter compote made of dried fruits and apples.

She'd even impulsively tucked a very small menorah into her bag, though she'd been undecided about whether she'd actually bring it out. Jethro had solved that dilemma, however, when he discovered it while helping her unpack the bags and cooler that held the fixings for their dinner. With a small, pleased smile, he'd placed it on the mantle.

With his encouragement, she'd lit the first candle on the menorah just before they ate as darkness fell outside, quietly murmuring the prayer that went with it before placing the candle-holder in the window, as was customary.

And found herself silently, uncharacteristically wishing for a miracle of her own that involved the man beside her.

During the meal and after, he'd drawn her into telling him the history behind this holiday when one day's worth of oil had miraculously lasted for eight. He pictured a young, dark-haired girl with big brown eyes as he nudged her into sharing some of her childhood memories of celebrating Chanukah when her mother and Tali were still alive.

To her pleasure and his surprise, he'd even dredged up a few holiday memories of his own from when he was a boy in response to her reciprocal gentle prodding.

After cleaning up when dinner was through, they'd stretched out on the rug with some pillows and blankets. One thing had led to another and soon they were making love again.

And while he hadn't thought to buy her a Chanukah present, he decided he could still give her something.

Which he did not once, but three times before finding his own completion.

Best. Chanukah. Gift. _Ever._

After cuddling for a bit, Ziva rolled him onto his stomach and proceeded to give him a backrub for Christmas. When he protested that the rug had already been his gift, she pointed out that it had rapidly – happily - become a gift for them both.

She had a point there.

Besides, she murmured provocatively into his ear, three orgasms deserved a little something extra.

The air was slightly chilly when she wasn't snuggled between her lover and the fire, so Ziva reached over and slipped on his t-shirt as she sat astride him.

She brought up the most recent case they'd worked involving the models who'd been filming a "reality" show on a Marine base, confessing that while Tony had found the women attractive, she'd just wanted to shoot them. And who on earth would believe that Marines would ever walk around in short shorts and skimpy tops? If it was a reality show, why were they not dressed in fatigues?

Gibbs snorted and told her that most so-called reality shows had little to do with real life and models in skimpy clothing would attract more viewers than women in military dress.

Now it was Ziva's turn to snort and shake her head, muttering under her breath in Hebrew what he guessed was something along the lines of _That's stupid_.

His lips twitched, though he silently concurred.

"Whadya think of the work so far? You miss the spy game?"

She thought about her answer as she worked her way down his spine.

"No," she revealed slowly. "I do not miss it, exactly." She paused again, searching for how to explain. "I feel more confident in that role and sometimes I miss that – that sense of knowing what I am doing."

"You're learning, but you still know what you're doin'. Hell, Ziva, ya single-handedly took down three people on your first case, saving Ducky in the process. And all that was after recreating that map from memory after one look at it."

She gave him an extra squeeze in appreciation, then pointed out ruefully, "Yes, but I would not have had to recreate the map at all if it had not been taken from us. And being pushed into a - pool?"

He could tell by her tone she was questioning the word, thinking she didn't quite have it right.

"Fountain."

She nodded once. Yes, that was the better word.

"Being pushed into a fountain after having the map taken from us - now, _that _was just embarrassing."

He hid his grin in the soft rug beneath his cheek.

"That's on me," he admitted generously.

"Yes, it is," she agreed with a wealth of feeling infused in her tone. "Because you took my guns."

"Gave 'em back," he defended himself mildly.

"And it is a good thing, too - just ask Ducky."

He did chuckle at that.

"I will admit the variety of cases we have had to work has been interesting, though I could have done without Tony nearly going to prison for a crime he did not commit and watching McGee struggle with shooting that undercover police officer."

She was quiet for a moment as she considered something else she would change, if she could.

"What're you thinking about?" he asked quietly, sensing something else was on her mind.

She waited so long to answer, he thought she might not.

"I wish Abby did not hate me ... though I suppose I can understand why she does."

Truth be told, she couldn't figure out why the others – Jethro included – did not seem to hate her, as well.

The pressure behind her hands had eased as she spoke, distracted by her thoughts. Now, she resolutely brought her mind back to the man under her and continued his massage with renewed focus and strength.

Gibbs heard the pain she couldn't quite keep out of her voice, though he was likely the only person who would have.

He rolled slightly onto one hip and rose up on a forearm, turning his head to look back at her. Her hands stopped and she instinctively rose a little higher on her knees to give him enough room to move beneath her.

Reaching out a hand, he cupped her face.

"Look at me, Ziva."

Cautiously, she raised her gaze to his. The warmth and affection in his expression put a crack in the familiar armor she'd instinctively pulled back around her heart.

"Abby'll come around. She's got a big heart and more loyalty than anyone else I know. She just needs more time to get to know you – and to not feel like she's somehow betraying Kate in the process."

Ziva blinked back unexpected moisture.

"If she knew, she would hate that you and I are … together," she whispered poignantly.

_And I do not want that to hurt you_.

_Or her._

_Or us._

Those words went unsaid except over that nonverbal highway that had connected them seemingly from the moment they met.

He heard them, though, and a little more healing took place in his heart.

Ziva willed her tears away while wondering in the back of her mind what was wrong with her. She was rarely this easily emotional and never had been in her intimate relationships_._

Apparently this was going to be a relationship like none she'd ever had. She couldn't quite decide if that was a good thing.

"Not once she sees how happy you make me," he predicted gently, breaking into her thoughts. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek into his palm. "'cause you do."

"I am glad," she husked, opening her eyes and giving him a smile that just managed to reach her eyes. "You make me happy, too."

"Good," he murmured against her lips as she leaned in to kiss him softly.

He brushed his lips across her cheek on his way to her ear.

"Know what else would make me really happy right now?" he questioned in a suggestive tone.

She chuckled and the warm sound curled through him sensuously.

"I have a guess or two," she drawled seductively, nuzzling her face into his throat. "But tell me."

He captured her mouth in a kiss that went deep in a heartbeat, making her head spin. Then, unexpectedly, he broke away and lay back down, settling comfortably into the rug.

"Finishing my back rub," he told her, gesturing toward a shoulder blade with his thumb over his shoulder. "Think you missed a spot."

Ziva's mouth dropped open slightly for a moment, then she dipped her chin and a charmed chuckle left her throat to dance lightly on the air.

"Well," she announced, once more kneading into his long, strong back with pleasure. "That will teach me to assume I know what you are thinking."

"You're prob'ly not wrong," he informed her. "Ya just might have things out of order."

She all but laughed out loud at that, brushing aside the more unsettling thoughts for now.

As she worked to completely relax his muscles, her mind wandered back to their earlier conversation.

Remembering part of one case in particular, she chortled under her breath.

"What?" he mumbled, relaxing under her ministrations.

"What we were talking about before. I was just thinking of the case where Tony and I went undercover. When I announced to him that I was pregnant while he was flirting with that young woman from housekeeping, the look on his face was priceless – and on hers, as well."

She grinned, while Jethro's head immediately went to a question that he'd wanted to know the answer to – now more than ever - but hadn't wanted to ask.

"That was the one case most like my old job," she mused out loud as she continued massaging his muscles. "At least I felt like I knew what I was doing in that one."

Ziva felt him tense slightly under her hands and paused, confused, unsure of where his head was suddenly going.

She didn't have long to wonder as an observation forced itself past his lips, against his legendary will.

"Pretty realistic. Both of ya. Hard to tell you were acting."

The silence that followed, thick on the air with unvoiced meaning, was nearly deafening.

"Is that a compliment or a question?" she asked as neutrally as she could, even as her mind froze, then jumbled with a mix of reactions.

Regretting that he'd even hinted at what was running through his mind, Gibbs just shrugged slightly.

_Neither._

_Both._

Ziva stiffened in response.

What, because she'd now slept with him, he assumed she'd actually had sex with Tony while they were undercover?

She shifted and made to climb off him.

"Ziva, wait." Gibbs grabbed for her hand, catching her in mid-movement.

Something running beneath his tone caught her and clued her in to the fact that he was feeling even less confident in all of this than she was.

She paused.

Closed her eyes with a calming breath.

And remembered that they'd only known each other for about three months … had only been getting closer for just less than two of those … and had only moved their relationship to this level twenty-four hours ago.

They still had much to learn about one other.

And, though he hadn't said anything since yesterday, she sensed he was still worried about work, and this issue was certainly connected to work.

"What is it you want to know, Jethro?"

"Nothing. Just forget I said anything," he mumbled, laying back down on the rug, but not letting go of her hand.

She looked at him for a moment, though his face was turned away from her.

"Even if I could forget you almost asked, will you be able to forget if I do not answer?" she asked him quietly.

He didn't respond except for tightening his grip on her hand as though afraid she would try to run off.

Ziva returned the squeeze reassuringly, then swung her right leg back so she could slide off him. Before he could do more than utter her name in protest, she'd rolled him onto his back and straddled his waist again so she could see his face. She leaned forward and planted a palm on the floor on either side of his head.

He kept his eyes on the fire, avoiding her gaze, until she delivered a soft command.

"Look at me, Jethro."

Slowly, he gave her his eyes, hiding the uncertainty in them behind a well-practiced wall.

"You want to know if I had sex with Tony."

He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then opened them back up … and allowed her to see his struggle.

_Yes._

_No._

_Maybe._

_I don't know._

Deep breath.

_Yes._

"I will answer you," she shared, still in that quiet tone, "but I would like you to answer two things for me first."

"What?" he forced out as one part of his brain silently chided himself with _Who are you and what have you done with second-b-is-for-bastard Gibbs? _Hell, he hadn't had a conversation this deep with three quarters of his wives and he'd been married to all of them longer than the twenty-four hours he'd been with Ziva.

Yet another clue that this relationship wasn't going to follow any pattern he'd experienced before … he just hoped he could find his way without screwing up.

Well, more than he already had, anyway.

"Does any part of the reason for the question have to do with wondering if I am not particularly choosy in my sexual partners?"

His eyes flew to hers, clearly surprised that she wondered if he thought she was … well, promiscuous.

"What?! No."

There was not an iota of uncertainty in his tone and she smiled, relieved. She laid her cheek against his, surprised at just how much his answer meant to her.

"Thank you."

She pressed a kiss to his temple, then drew back to look into his face.

"I am glad. And I would like you to know that while being choosy has admittedly not always correlated with a certain length of time, I can assure you I am indeed very choosy about who I take to my bed."

He started to relax inside, gaining confidence that maybe he hadn't screwed this up after all with his almost-question.

"Or rug," he pointed out with that oh-so-appealing half-smile pulling at his lips.

Her smile broadened.

"Or, in this case, rug," she agreed, rubbing her nose adorably against his.

"So how'd I make the grade?" he wondered out loud, raising one hand to brush back her hair with tenderness.

"Now _that_ has a very long answer, so perhaps we can come back to it," she replied in a seductive tone before sucking his bottom lip into her mouth.

He swallowed hard and hummed his agreement before kissing her back.

Releasing his lips, Ziva straightened up on her arms once more to better see his face. Continuing in her earlier carefully neutral tone, she asked him her second question.

"What happens if the answer to the question that you do not really want to ask is yes?"

It wasn't, but the part of her that was reflexively self-protective and was worried enough about the others' reactions to them being together to be a little unsure of how this would hold up between them, needed to know.

He looked searchingly into her eyes. He couldn't read anything there, but sensed he wasn't the only one needing a little reassurance.

Gibbs thought about his response ... and made the decision that what mattered was the present, not the past - and, he dared to consider, the future. Then, he let go of wishing he could control her answer and focused on the woman in front of him.

In a lightning move, he rolled her under him, relishing the surprised pleasure in those beautiful brown eyes.

"Well, first I'd remind you of the 'no sharing' rule from here on out ..." He caught the grin that started to spread across her face as he bent his head to her ear, his lips sending shivers down her spine as they brushed against the shell of her ear as he spoke in a low, smoky voice. "And then I'd make you come until the only guy you can remember is me."

His possessive, sexy tone trapped her breath in her lungs and sent moisture pooling between her thighs. She closed her eyes and her hips shifted uncontrollably against his in response.

Ziva then lifted her lids and captured his gaze ... and brown melted into blue.

"You already have," she admitted breathlessly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

She smiled inwardly at his unspoken response and doubted anyone could pull off a satisfied, roguish expression the way he could.

"And perhaps it is time," she began as she flipped him onto his back again and held him there with a leg over his hips, "that I return the favor."

He huffed out a tight chuckle.

"Might have already," he revealed, then made her gasp out loud as he bit gently at her neck, "but it's a little hazy."

"Well ..." she drawled, smoothing a leisurely-exploring hand down his magnificent chest. "We will just have to firm that up."

She felt him harden beneath her thigh and cocked an eyebrow at him impishly as her hand reached his shaft.

"It appears something is getting firmer already," she teased him, tracing the length of him seductively with her fingertips.

"Glad you noticed," he managed, lifting his hips against her hand.

"Oh, that is hard to miss," she breathed, her eyes gleaming at the double entendre.

His laugh rumbled in his chest again, but it was getting more than a little desperate.

Ziva cupped him in her hand and squeezed gently as she turned her face into his chest and pressed a line of kisses up to his throat.

"And, Jethro?" she murmured against his skin.

"Yeah?" he managed.

Barely.

Her lips reached his ear.

"The answer ... is no."

It took a moment for the words she'd just breathed into his ear to register in his brain because desire was trumping his ability to think. Then, his eyes opened and he rolled them until they were on their sides facing one another, pressed closely together.

"No?" he husked, smoothing his hands over her beneath his shirt.

She smiled at him tenderly.

"No."

He tipped his forehead to hers.

"Will you be upset if I admit I'm glad?"

Her smile became one of understanding and she shook her head.

"No," she whispered, brushing her lips across his.

"But, Ziva?"

She tilted her head back once more and looked at him questioningly.

"Would have handled it either way. Not giving you up that easily."

"I am very glad to hear that," she told him feelingly, capturing his mouth in a kiss that rocked them both.

Once they separated enough to breathe, Ziva laid her hand on his cheek and brought his eyes to hers once more.

"Do not hesitate to ask me for anything, even if it is reassurance," she directed him affectionately. "I want you to have what you want, what you need."

He allowed himself to drown in the brown depths of her eyes.

"Want you, Ziva."

Then he wrapped her even more tightly in his arms as though he'd never let go.

"Need you."

"That is perfect," she whispered in a tone made husky with emotion, "because it is very, very mutual."

And then there was no more talking for a long while except for breathless endearments and admissions of desire mixed with sounds of pleasure from them both as she murmured and showed him all the reasons he'd "made the grade." They forgot everything else but the passion that had taken them unexpectedly by storm and had dropped them into unchartered territory, yet was already unbelievably precious and rousing a fierce desire to protect it.

_TBC ..._


	6. Sealing The Gaps

_About nine months later …_

Ziva snuggled more closely into Jethro's warm, naked body and released a contented hum. The weekends when they were together like this were her favorite times and generally started with making love the minute they got inside the cabin, too hungry for each other after a few days of being apart to wait even a second longer.

Well, sort of apart.

They worked together every day, but they kept their intimate relationship strictly to their days off. Separating their lives in that manner seemed like the only way to make this work and keep this part of their relationship a secret, though it was getting harder and harder to maintain that.

Tonight they lay together on the plush, soft rug she'd bought for the cabin last Christmas, relaxing in front of the fire after losing themselves in their passion for one another. There was just enough of a hint of fall in the air to make the fire welcome.

"You sound happy," he observed in a low voice that rumbled in his chest as his hand played in her glossy hair and gently massaged her scalp.

"I am," she returned with a smile he could feel against his skin. Her voice dropped a little. "In fact, I am never happier than when we are in this life."

She felt him tilt his chin down toward her face.

"'This life?'"

She shrugged lightly in silent non-answer to his question.

"Whadya mean?"

She paused for a moment, then responded quietly.

"Sometimes I feel as though there are two of me – the work me and the 'you' me."

_And the "you" me is completely in love and wishes we could always be together._

But she continued to keep that to herself, uncertain he was ready to hear it – or if he even ever would be.

Gibbs hugged her more tightly for a moment and dropped a kiss to her hair.

"Well, I hope you stick around 'cause I like both of you."

A shadow crossed her heart that was reflected in her eyes. He'd have seen it if he'd been looking at her. She swallowed hard, fighting a tide of emotion that rolled through her unbidden and unexpectedly.

Was that all it would ever be for him? Like? With a side of lust?

Or maybe lust with a side of like was more accurate.

In a subconscious move of self-protection, Ziva rolled over on her side to face the fire, pulling the blanket more firmly over her as her back rested against his side.

"It is more than like for me," she mumbled, but the words were so low that he couldn't make them out clearly.

As soon as she turned away from him, he got concerned. She hadn't moved far at all physically, but he could feel her retreating inside.

He wondered what had shifted all of a sudden. It wasn't that Ziva was never moody, but she honestly wasn't usually when they were here together in the cabin.

He thought back to the last thing he'd said and his heart tripped.

His hope was that she'd stick around. Maybe part of her was getting tired of this double life and wanted one where she could be happy all the time.

Maybe even one that didn't include being with him like this.

He'd been there before.

Forcing himself to not ignore this and figure out what was going on, he rolled toward her and rose up on one forearm.

"Ziva?" He laid his hand on her hip and squeezed gently. "What did you say?"

At first, she just shook her head slightly.

"Never mind," she husked. She laid a hand on top of his and pressed it reassuringly. "It is nothing."

"Feels like something," he demurred quietly.

When she still didn't respond, he spooned her more closely, wrapping his arm around her waist, grateful when she didn't pull away.

"Tell me," he directed softly, burying his face in her hair.

Ziva couldn't decide what to do, at first. On one hand, she didn't want to risk pushing him away by declaring deeper feelings than he might be comfortable hearing. On the other hand, she'd nearly told him so many times how much she loved him and it was honestly hard to keep holding that in.

Maybe it was better to bring that into the light and see where they went from there.

Her pulse rate kicked up in response to her nerves, but she answered him just loudly enough for him to hear.

"I said that it is more than 'like' for me."

His heart stopped for a moment, then soared. She didn't want to leave him. She more-than-liked him.

Maybe … loved him?

Like he loved her.

Grateful, Gibbs squeezed her to him and pressed a kiss to her head, then rose up to lean over her.

"That's it?" he asked with a goofy grin on his face.

Her heart dropped.

Then came slight shock.

Then she got pissed.

"'That's it'?'' she repeated. Her voice became incredulous. "'_That's it?_'"

She smacked the back of her hand against his chest.

"From where I am sitting, that is a very big 'it,' mister," she informed him, reaching for anger to cover the hurt. "I will have you know, I have never told a man that I loved him before."

He just managed to stop his lips from twitching at her indignation. He was so goddamn happy she more-than-liked him, that it was a wonder he wasn't grinning from ear to ear.

And she was so gorgeous with her brown eyes snapping at him he could barely think straight.

"Ya still haven't," he couldn't resist pointing out – which nearly got him punched.

He should be glad there weren't any paperclips handy or it might have gotten him gutted.

"And at the rate you are going, I never will," she retorted.

Ziva all but harrumphed as she gathered the blanket around her and stood. She stomped a few paces away muttering _That's it?_ in snarky disbelief just under her breath.

She paused for a moment, looking around with agitation, her heart sinking when she remembered that there was nowhere to get away from him in the cabin. She huffed out a breath and considered reaching for some clothes to go outside.

Oh, screw it. No one was up here but them for miles around. She'd just go out in her blanket. It wasn't _that_ cold.

Before she could move toward the door, her lover's hands descended onto her shoulders to hold her in place, firmly enough to let her know he didn't want her going anywhere and yet hopefully gently enough not to trigger her ingrained fight or flight response.

"Good thing about a one-room cabin is you can't hide from me," he observed.

The affection – and understanding – in his tone slowly took the air out of her sails.

"I was thinking that was a bad thing," she admitted wryly, softening against him.

With a sigh of relief at her body's unconscious drift toward him, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and upper chest from behind. For a long moment, they stood just like that, leaning together, settling.

His lips against her hair, Gibbs made an observation.

"Somethin' tells me neither one of us has had a lot of practice at this."

"At what?" she asked softly.

"Telling someone we love them," he clarified quietly.

Her heart stopped, then galloped.

"What –" She paused to clear her throat. "What did you think I was trying to say?"

He rested his cheek on the top of her head before answering.

"At first, couldn't tell what you said. You'd turned away, wouldn't look at me. Thought maybe you were trying to figure out how to tell me you'd rather have someone else that wasn't so complicated. Someone you could be happy with all the time."

She swiveled her head quickly to look up at him in surprise.

He shrugged at the unvoiced question in her eyes.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he pointed out.

The almost matter-of-fact tone he used for that observation made her heart ache for him. She'd been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and insecurities that she'd missed his.

Ziva turned to face him, resting her body lightly against his.

"I am sorry, _neshama_," she said, raising a hand to cup his cheek. "I did not mean for you to think that even for one second. I do not want anyone but you."

The steps he'd taken gave her the confidence she needed to make another attempt at sharing her feelings.

Stretching up on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips across his.

"Perhaps we could try again, hmmm?" she asked softly, warmly with a small smile.

He gave a nod, his characteristic half-smile tugging at his lips.

"Let us get more comfortable," she suggested.

Turning them both around, she pushed him backwards with a light hand on his chest to the twin bed they shared. A couple of months into their relationship, he'd asked if she wanted him to put a bigger bed up here, but she didn't. She liked sleeping pressed closely to him. When she added she didn't want him to be able to get too far from her, he'd smiled that smile of his and reassured her without a single word that he wasn't going anywhere.

When he got to the edge of the bed, she kept moving toward him until he was sitting crossways on the mattress, his back against the wall. Still holding onto her blanket with one hand, Ziva climbed up to straddle his lap. She tucked the corner of the soft cloth inside itself over her left breast so she had both hands free to rest against his chest.

"So, I believe I said something like 'I feel as though there are two of me – the work me and the 'you' me,'" she repeated from earlier with a gentle smile in her eyes.

"Well, I hope you stick around, 'cause I like both of you," he obliged with some repeating of his own.

His hands had been resting on her hips. Now he flexed them to grip her more firmly, enjoying the feel of her. His eyes took on a sexy twinkle.

"Gotta admit, though – I'm especially partial to this you."

"Oh?" she asked in a sultry drawl, smoothing her hands up to curve over his shoulders. "Why is that?"

"'cause I can get this you naked," he revealed in a sexy voice, kissing her throat and lingering there.

"Mmmmm …" she sighed, sliding a hand up to the back of his head to hold him to her neck and rubbing her body against him provocatively. "Shall I tell you a secret?"

Her low, smoky tone rolled through him, igniting the fire between them that was never far off, even when they were containing it behind impenetrable, flame-proof shields during work days.

"Tell me all your secrets," he growled against her skin.

"You could get the other me naked, too," she revealed, nuzzling her face into him.

He went completely still for a heartbeat, then he gathered her even closer.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she copied warmly. She pressed a line of kisses up his throat. "Whenever …" The kisses beaded along his chiseled jaw. "And wherever …" She ended at his ear. "You want."

An image slammed into his brain, making his swelling cock twitch against her and his arms clutch her tightly.

"Tell me what you are seeing in your mind," she breathed into his ear.

"You. Me. My office," he managed, the picture in his mind of taking her up against the wall of his elevator nearly stealing all of his breath.

"Mmmm …" she hummed, rubbing her cheek against his. "That is one of my favorite fantasies, as well."

"Yeah?" he asked.

He had some vague impression that he was repeating himself, but he had no oxygen left in his brain to be more creative. It was all headed south at a remarkable pace.

She grinned, delighted to have robbed him of his faculties.

"Yeah," she sighed happily.

Ziva tilted her head back far enough to smile at him, sifting her fingers through his soft silver hair. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his softly, sinking into him. The kiss spun out, deepening, as he returned it.

"Jethro?" she murmured against his lips when they pulled just far apart enough to take in some air.

"Mmmm?"

"Get me naked right now," she commanded breathlessly.

He swallowed hard as every cell in his body responded to her sultry command. Then he lifted his hands and gently tugged at the blanket until it was pooled on his thighs. Gibbs indulged himself in running his hands reverently over her.

"God, you're beautiful."

A grateful feminine smile curved her lips.

"I am very glad you think so," she murmured, bending her head to take his lips again.

When they pulled slightly apart this time, she had both arms wrapped like silken ropes around his neck and both of his were tight around her waist. She was so close and her frame so small that his forearms were flat across her back and his hands gently squeezed her sides.

Ziva captured his gaze with hers.

"By the way, I like you, too," she husked. "In fact …"

She glanced away to gather her courage, then looked him in the eye again. Her fingertips came forward to lightly caress his face.

"I love you."

He could literally see her pulse pounding at her throat as she admitted what had been her biggest secret in a whole life full of those.

A full-blown, rarely seen Gibbs smile curved his lips and added extra sparkle to his eyes.

"Glad to hear that," he husked, understanding that she hadn't been sure he would be. ""cause I love you, too. Both of you."

A brilliant smile spread across her face and her delighted sound danced on the air. She grabbed him up in the tightest hug possible.

"I was afraid you never could," she whispered.

"Same here," he murmured against her ear. Then he leaned his head back in an effort to see into her eyes. "Know why I thought that – I'm too old and cranky and have three ex-wives to prove it – but why'd you?"

She shrugged lightly and kept her face tucked away from his all-seeing gaze.

"Talk to me, Ziver."

After a moment, she did the best she could.

"I am not like the other women you have been with," she finally admitted. She glanced up at him with a sad excuse for a smile. "My hair is not even red."

"Love your hair," he said, smoothing a hand over the long silky strands. "And you being different is a good thing."

She gave him a small smile and pressed a kiss to his chest in gratitude.

"Plus, I …" She shook her head, not certain how to really say this next part. "I have always excelled at my work." She paused for a moment. "Being someone that others would want to be in a long-term relationship with - ?" She shook her head more definitively this time. "In the relationships I have had before, nothing has ever come close to that."

She laid her cheek against his shoulder.

"Though I think you deserve better than me, I want that with you … and hiding this is not always easy anymore, but I do not want to let you go. The way we fit together is unlike anything I have ever known, in the best way possible."

Jethro cupped her jaw in his hand and tipped her face up to his. Smoothing a thumb along her cheekbone, he tried to reassure her.

"Want to be with you, too, and the only way you're getting rid of me is if I'm not what you need."

"You are exactly what I need," Ziva whispered and slid her hand up to pull his lips down to hers once more.

They kissed long and deeply, pressed close together … both complete persons in their own right, and yet, somehow, two halves of the same whole, as well.

Their lips parted to allow for air, but their lips stayed in contact with cheeks, jaws, throats, shoulders.

"Can I ask you something?" Gibbs requested, his mouth still against her skin.

Ziva nuzzled her face into his neck.

"You may ask me anything."

Jethro rested his head back against the wall and tipped her gaze up to his with a gentle finger under her chin.

"You ever think about combining your two selves?"

Ziva went stock-still except for the wild beating of her heart.

"What are you asking?" she whispered.

"Think you know, but I'm asking if you think about not hiding anymore," he clarified. Then he looked around the room and his lips twitched. "Coming out of the cabin. So to speak."

The matter was far too serious for Ziva to be distracted by his well-placed humor.

"Would you run the other direction if I admitted yes to that?"

He shook his head.

"Only direction I'd be running would be after you because I think about it, too," he told her.

"You … do?"

He nodded.

"But … Jenny … and your rules … and the others …"

Her words sounded like protests, but the hope in her eyes told him her most heartfelt wish was for those things to not really matter.

"Jen and the others will get used to it, and maybe I need another rule where you're concerned: sometimes I'm wrong."

"You are never wrong," Ziva disagreed, hugging him close and burying her face in his neck. "Though I am very glad you made one exception to Rule 12 for me."

After a moment, she spoke again.

"I … want to be with you without hiding, but we have kept this just between us for so long … I have this urge to keep protecting it, to protect the 'us' we have become."

He rubbed his face against hers and hugged her tightly.

"Know what you mean," he admitted, "but I think the time's coming when we'll tell the others. When it's right, we'll know."

He tipped her face up to his with a finger under her chin.

"No matter what, we'll still do whatever it takes to protect this," he promised, nothing but truth in his eyes.

Ziva gazed at him searchingly for a long moment, then relaxed against him, reassured.

"Whatever it takes," she swore in return, then pulled his mouth to hers and the two lovers lost themselves in melding together once more.

* * *

_neshama = Hebrew term of endearment meaning "my spirit", "my soul"  
_

_Barring any unforeseen muse attacks ;), one more chapter will close this one out. Thanks so much for reading and every review really means a great deal to me. =)_


	7. Built To Last

_A/N: A quick reminder from the initial A/N, the case Ziva refers to below is from "Suspicion" (episode 4x12) which actually aired 1/16/07. However, in this story, that took place somewhere in the first couple of weeks of December 2006._

* * *

_Three months later … _

It was December 27th and all of Team Gibbs plus Ducky and Palmer were in Abby's lab, winding up a debrief on their recently closed case and longing for their shift to end without Gibbs' phone ringing followed by those three little words.

_Grab your gear._

They'd recently worked around the clock on a difficult case for over a week - including Christmas – and Vance had told them not to come in until Tuesday, once they left for the day.

Given that today was Wednesday, that meant they had not one day off for New Year's Day on Monday, but five days in a row when you counted the weekend.

Even Gibbs was looking forward to the time off because he and Ziva were going to spend it at the cabin.

And he had a New Year's Eve surprise planned that he really, really hoped she wanted.

Across the room, Ziva's mind wandered. She couldn't _wait _to get out of here and on the road to the cabin with Jethro. Five whole days of nothing but him … of _them_.

DiNozzo changed the subject by asking Gibbs what he was going to do now that his favorite java stand near the entrance of NCIS was closing down.

"He will probably just bring his own coffee like he does whenever he goes out of town," Ziva put in unthinkingly, only half-listening.

The others went quiet and looked at her with some surprise. The Israeli thought back over her words, trying to figure out what she'd said to garner such attention. She grimaced internally when she realized she'd sounded overly familiar with their team leader's coffee routine.

Which she was, of course.

But no one was supposed to know that.

"Since when did you become so well-acquainted with the Boss' out-of-town coffee habits, Zee-vah?" Tony asked with his eyebrows raised in question.

Inquiring minds wanted to know.

"He told me recently when we had to stay overnight in that small town while investigating the death of that Marine intelligence officer, Tony," Ziva explained, aiming for a calm, off-handed voice and succeeding admirably.

That was true, but she left out that they'd repeated that conversation outside the motel for the sake of appearances, having first had that discussion after waking up together in his bed.

Naked.

Whoever had invented the concept of room-connecting doors deserved a medal.

She forced her eyes to flit casually around the lab, hoping to quickly find another topic of conversation, careful to avoid looking at Jethro.

Her gaze lingered here and there on the various decorations that were still in plain sight. Chanukah had begun the evening of December 15th this year and Abby had decorated for that, first. She'd even talked Ziva into the two of them making a traditional Chanukah meal for the whole gang on the first night. That had been a Friday so Ziva and Jethro had been planning a private celebration at the cabin. However, Abby had been so persistent and sweet about it that Ziva just hadn't known exactly how to refuse without raising questions about her personal life – and, unknowingly to Abby, Jethro's - that she didn't want to lie about, but didn't really want to answer.

This was Ziva's second holiday season with them and while early on she'd not been sure how she would fit in – and had gotten off to a very slow start with Abby, in particular - she was now just as much a part of the group as those who'd been there longer. It had actually been very meaningful and a lot of fun to share the beginning of Chanukah with these people who had become her new family, even though part of her had missed spending it with just Jethro like last year.

They'd still headed for the mountains that Saturday and Sunday, and the only thing that would have made that better would have been having more time together.

After the Jewish holiday had passed, Abby had decorated for Christmas with a vengeance and had even added New Year's decorations this week.

"Have you decided when you are going to take down your decorations, Abby?" Ziva asked, hoping her friend would take the reins of the conversation and gallop eagerly in a different direction.

The scientist did not disappoint her.

Ziva paid attention with one part of her mind, while losing herself in her own thoughts as her eyes landed on the mistletoe hanging in the doorway. She couldn't help but smile inside. She could never look at the deep green leaves and bright berries without thinking of the first night she and Jethro had kissed under the greenery at the general store near the cabin at the insistence of young Benjamin.

She'd joked back then that perhaps she would make a mistletoe suit so that he'd kiss her all over. Much to her extreme pleasure – and his - he'd obliged her without such makeshift clothing, but this year she had a surprise for him.

While surfing some online shopping sites one night, she'd discovered a set of clinging scoop-necked thermal underwear that sported tiny sprigs of mistletoe all over the top and bottoms and had promptly ordered them. The cream color of the background was almost sheer as it stretched over her skin, rendering the outfit sexier than one might have imagined.

Unbeknownst to her, her smile showed up on her lips as she thought of Jethro's reaction to the new addition to her wardrobe.

Tony caught her mysterious Mona Lisa smile and followed her gaze.

Well, well, well.

He sensed a secret at which he couldn't help but poke.

When Abby paused for a breath after having moved on to explaining the plans she had for her Valentine's decorations, DiNozzo asked his clearly-distracted partner another question.

"See the mistletoe caught your eye, Officer David. Care to share with the class who you're thinking about kissing?"

Ziva snapped to attention and fought to hide her blush. How could she have been so careless? And not once, but _twice_.

"No one, Tony," she lied, looking everywhere but at her lover.

"No one?" he pushed, mostly just playing, but still having the sense there was something going on under the surface.

"No," Ziva said shortly, shoving off from where she'd been casually leaning against Abby's computer stand. Internally, she took a breath and strove to sound nonchalant as she made for the exit. "If anyone needs me, I will be at my desk."

Gibbs followed her with his eyes – and caught his senior agent staring thoughtfully after her, as well, clearly trying to figure out what he was missing.

Then Jethro considered the fact that _he_ needed her.

All the time.

Did she realize that?

He knew she knew he wanted her and he was pretty sure she was coming to understand just how much he loved her …

But did she know how much he needed her?

He spent more than half his time pretending that he didn't.

And with that, he decided the time he'd predicted had come.

"Hey, Ziver?"

Ziva's steps faltered to a halt, thrown off by his use of the nickname he normally reserved for their alone time.

"Yes, Gibbs?" she asked hesitantly, frozen.

Ignoring the five other heads that swiveled in unison to stare at him in response to his warm, affectionate tone, Jethro tossed his ever-present coffee cup into the trash can and walked toward the woman he loved.

She sensed him coming and turned slowly to face him. Once she was certain his tall body was blocking her expression from the others, she closed her eyes briefly, then opened them with an apology banked in their whiskey-brown depths for sounding too familiar with him, for being distracted by the mistletoe.

For just a moment, she looked so young, the way she'd appeared when she'd first arrived in his bullpen.

Funny, he thought errantly, he rarely considered the difference in their ages anymore. Maybe that was just so could pretend it wasn't there, but mostly …

It just didn't feel like it was.

At some point, without conscious thought, he'd realized Ziva was right: they understood and balanced each other perfectly, regardless of his age or hers.

Now, he just gave her that smile of his that made her weak in the knees and stopped right in front of her.

"What if someone wanted to kiss you?" he asked with studied casualness, staring deeply into her eyes.

Ziva's eyes widened, her lips parted in disbelief.

His back to the others, he allowed everything he felt for her and all he wanted with her to show in his arresting blue eyes.

_It's time_ he told her without a single word.

Ziva's breath caught in her chest until his tender, encouraging smile bridged the gap between disbelief and belief.

"That would depend on the someone," she husked.

"That'd be me," he admitted.

A slow, beautiful smile brightened her expression. Glancing up and behind her, she took one long step backwards.

Ending smack dab under the mistletoe.

"Perhaps you should try it and find out," Ziva suggested coyly, but with an intimate affection that created an almost visceral response in him.

He took the hand she held out and allowed her to tug him closer, both of them ignoring the shock waves rolling from the others.

Tilting their heads, their fingers laced, they slowly brought their curved lips together for a long, soft kiss.

Her free hand drifted up to rest on his chest while his found her hip.

You could have heard a pin drop behind them, though it took a few minutes for them to come back to the present enough to notice it.

Slowly, so slowly, their lips parted and their heads dropped back enough to look into each others' eyes. Ziva's thrilled, tender smile brought out his own.

_I love you_ she silently told him with dancing, happy brown eyes.

_Love you back_ he responded wordlessly, a loving version of that characteristic grin of his back in place.

"You might have warned me," Ziva murmured without censure.

"It was one of those spur of the moment things," he shared honestly. His smile deepened and he brought one hand up to cup her cheek, smoothing a thumb over her cheekbone. "Thanks for not leaving me hanging out there by myself."

She pressed her face into his palm lovingly.

"I would never do that," she whispered emotionally.

Happier and more nervous than she'd ever been, Ziva slid her arms around his chest under his coat and laid her head against his shoulder, seeking comfort and reassurance. She released a blissful sigh as he wrapped her in a close hug that said he wasn't letting go.

Ever.

"It is awfully quiet back there," she observed softly. "Are they still there?"

"They're still there," he answered confidently without even looking.

"Do you think they fainted?" she asked with a twitch of her lips.

Gibbs glanced back, his own grin playing about his mouth as he looked at the others who were frozen in various stages of shock – except for Ducky who was grinning knowingly with an adorable twinkle in his eye.

"Sort of," Jethro told her. "But they're still standing."

They chuckled lightly and, without letting go of each other, turned sideways so they could both see their coworkers, their friends.

"Might have ta kiss you more often around here," Gibbs observed. "Works better than a headslap."

Ziva's delighted laugh brought the others out of their stupor.

"Probie. Quick – pinch me," Tony ordered, certain he must be trapped in some kind of alternate reality.

"Huh?" McGee responded distractedly.

Abby reached out and pinched Tim on the soft part of his upper arm.

"Ow!"

"Pinch him to make sure he's not dreaming," Abby ordered while never taking her eyes from the couple in front of them.

DiNozzo was standing on the other side of McGee, so the younger man obligingly gave him a pinch that would have done Gibbs proud.

Felt good, actually.

To McGee, anyway.

"Hey!" Tony protested, rubbing his side. "Not so hard, McSchwarzenegger."

Tim started to smile, both at the unintended compliment from Tony and the happiness fairly beaming from two of the people he cared most about in the world.

Jimmy's mouth opened and closed several times like a fish out of water, but not a sound came out.

Ziva's eyes traveled down the line of the group, finally resting on the medical examiner for whom she had an especially soft spot.

"I cannot help but notice, Ducky, that you do not seem particularly surprised," she observed with a faint curve to her lips.

"I have long thought you two were perfect for each other," Ducky revealed surprisingly with that satisfied gleam still twinkling behind his round lenses. "So all I really have to say is congratulations … and it is about time."

Jethro and Ziva glanced at each other with a loving smile and she squeezed him a little more tightly.

"Actually, this is not new," she shared softly, laying her head back on her lover's chest.

Jethro tightened his grip on her protectively, uncertain of the response they would get to that.

"How long has this been going on?" Tony asked suspiciously, keeping the myriad of emotions bouncing around inside him as far removed from his face as possible.

"Was a year Christmas Eve," Gibbs informed them.

This time Abby spoke up.

"But … that's not much longer than Ziva's been here."

"That is true," the Israeli responded gently, unconsciously pressing a little closer to Jethro, appreciating the comforting way he returned the embrace.

While they mulled that revelation over, DiNozzo had a sudden thought.

"Does the director know?"

Everyone noticed how Ziva tensed slightly at her partner's question. Gibbs, however, took it in stride.

"Not yet," he answered honestly. He rested his chin on Ziva's head. As much to reassure her as everyone else, he added, "It'll be all right."

Tony, McGee and Abby shared a glance. They weren't so sure.

They weren't alone – neither was Ziva.

But, she sighed to herself, they would cross that bridge when they came to it, which would apparently be sooner than later.

No matter what, the Israeli knew she would do anything except give up Jethro and that together they were strong enough to handle anything that came their way. That was really all that mattered.

With an understanding silent squeeze, Jethro looked down at the woman in his arms and suggested, "Don't have to do that today. Let's go home."

She smiled at him.

"Yours or mine?"

They'd begun splitting their weeknights between the two places ever since the Wednesday after they'd first admitted they were in love, neither wanting to spend another night without the other.

_Flashback_

_Ziva lay in her bed – her big, lonely bed – staring alternately at the ceiling, then at the clock. She wondered if the clock was broken as the numbers seemed to take forever to change. She double-checked the time on her phone and flopped back down on the mattress in frustration as she was forced to realize there was nothing wrong with her alarm clock._

_She released a long sigh._

_The only thing _wrong _was that her lover was not beside her._

_And she missed him._

_While they had managed to sleep apart except when they were at the cabin or off someplace on an occasional romantic weekend, that was suddenly much harder._

_Maybe it had something to do with the spoken admissions that they were in love, which brought with it a bone-deep certainty that this was more than casual …_

_And a longing for even more._

_After tossing and turning for two hours, Ziva had had enough. She threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. She muttered to herself as she grabbed an extra backpack and loaded it with the necessary toiletries and clothes to get ready for work in the morning._

_If anyone could sneak into a house without being noticed by anybody who happened to be watching, it was surely a highly revered – not to mention feared - Mossad officer._

_She paused in the act of reaching for something besides her nightshirt to wear on the drive to Jethro's, as a wave of uncertainty swept over her. What if he didn't want to switch up their during-the-week sleeping arrangements?_

_Ziva shoved that worry aside and decided she'd just have to change his mind, if that was the case. Opening a different drawer, she chose a very silky, lacy black satin teddy to slip on under the dark yoga pants and hoodie she planned to wear._

_She stole a look in the mirror after putting on the sexy underwear, pleased with the look – and fairly certain Jethro would be, too._

_That might help._

_Certainly couldn't hurt._

_Moving efficiently, she pulled on her casual clothes, slipped her feet into shoes, hung her backpack over her shoulder and grabbed her phone. As she left her bedroom, she decided to give Jethro a heads-up that she was coming. After all, it wasn't any smarter to surprise him at midnight that it was to surprise her._

_But she didn't intend to allow him to sway her from her goal._

_She hit the number one speed dial on her phone and kept walking through her apartment toward the front door._

"_Hey."_

_Jethro's warm greeting instinctively made her smile and picture him in her mind._

_She paused in her steps and closed her eyes._

_God, she wanted to hold him._

"_Everything okay?"_

_His question brought her out of her reverie._

"_Yes, everything is fine." She swallowed and firmed her voice, clearly brooking no argument. "I am coming over."_

_She braced herself for his reaction, prepared to woo him over to her way of thinking._

"_Meet ya at the door."_

_His unexpected response, offered in a warm tone that pulled at her over their wireless connection, brought her steps to a brief halt._

_And was that a smile in his voice?_

"_Oh," she offered, a little off balance for a millisecond. Then, she smiled herself, happy he was already seeing things her way. "Good."_

_Her voice dropped as she anticipated his reaction to her pretty excuse for underthings that would double as her nightwear – until he got it off her._

"_I will see you soon."_

_With a murmured agreement, he hung up and she did the same, proceeding to the door with an extra bounce in her step and a tingle low in her belly._

_She draped her jacket over her left arm, and then unlocked and opened her door, distracted as she fished for her keys in the coat pocket._

_Ziva had her head down as she stepped across the threshold into the hallway …_

_And bumped right into something._

_Or rather, someone._

_Her head immediately snapped up and her muscles readied themselves for a fighting stance._

_Then, she stood stock still with her mouth slightly open in surprise._

"_Jethro?"_

_She looked down at the phone she still held in her left hand, then looked back up at him with her brows knitted together adorably in confusion._

"_But –"_

_She shook her head slightly as if to clear it._

"_Said I'd meet ya at the door," he reminded her with a sexy twinkle in his blue eyes._

"_Yes," she agreed slowly with a second implied objection hanging at the end of the word._

"_Never said which door," Gibbs pointed out with that delicious characteristic half-grin tugging up one side of his mouth._

_Finally, Ziva's head caught up with what was going on._

_Apparently she hadn't been the only one who'd been missing someone tonight._

_That pretty smile of hers that made everything right with his world slowly curved her lips and happiness practically beamed out of her. A delighted noise left her throat as she reached for his hand and quickly tugged him inside her apartment._

_She dropped her things unceremoniously to the floor and relocked the door, as he dropped his small duffel bag beside her stuff._

_Before he could blink, he found his back pressed against the wall as the woman he loved captured his lips and practically climbed up the front of him in an effort to get closer._

_Her lips shifted to skim along his chiseled jaw, while his found her throat._

_"You were coming to see me," she murmured, elated.  
_

"_Mmmm," he agreed. Lifting his head, he raised a hand from her hip to her cheek and found her eyes in the moonlight seeping in around the curtains. "Missed you."_

_Those two words, offered in a low husky tone, curled through her, warming her from head to toe and everywhere in between._

"_I missed you, too," she whispered. She dropped her eyelids for a moment, then opened them with a pleading look in her big brown eyes. "I know we have stayed apart during the week, but I ... I cannot do that any longer. Or, at least ... I do not want to."_

_He smiled gently and dropped a soft, reassuring kiss to her lips._

"_Me either," he admitted._

_Immensely relieved, Ziva jumped up and wrapped herself around him, trusting him to catch her and hold on._

_He did._

"_I love you," she husked in his ear, holding him as though she did not intend to ever let go._

_He hoped she never would._

"_Love you, too," he responded warmly, squeezing her tightly._

_Ziva kissed him again, then mumbled seductively against his lips, "Take me to bed. I have wanted you in my bed for so long."_

"_Makes two of us," he agreed._

_Happy and smiling and in love, they slowly made their way to her room, chuckling as he bumped them into a table and then a wall along the way._

_Sliding down his body until her feet reached the floor, Ziva turned on the lamp beside her bed, wanting to see him here in her most personal space as she removed his clothes and her own. The hungry gleam in his eyes as she revealed her silky underwear was immensely satisfying._

_After making love, they snuggled as closely together as if they had only the space of a twin bed instead of a larger one and drifted off to sleep, both of them completely relaxed and secure in the arms of the one they loved._

_Back to the present …_

"Thought we were headed to ours," he answered her affectionately.

Her brow dipped slightly for a second, then her expression cleared with a tender smile.

"The cabin," she murmured happily.

He nodded with that half-smile of his.

"Cabin? What cabin?" Tony asked, practically getting mental whiplash from trying to keep up with the surprises that just kept coming.

"Well, technically it is Jethro's," Ziva admitted, using his first name in front of the others for the first time. Then she smiled up at him shyly and said to him, "But I think of it as ours."

"That's 'cause it is," he responded firmly, deepening her smile.

And after she hopefully said yes and let him slip a certain diamond on her finger a few nights from now, it would officially be theirs.

"You all get out of here, too," Gibbs ordered the others, shifting so that his arm was around Ziva's shoulders to guide her to the elevator.

There would be time for an extended discussion – perhaps several – with their friends about how this all came to be that would give everyone a chance to process it, but right now it was time to get on with the rest of their lives.

As he was about to step forward, he glanced up.

"Abbs?"

"Go for it, Bossman. It's yours," the scientist answered with a pleased smile, quickly coming around to the idea of the man she cared for like family being obviously truly happy. "Enjoy."

As Jethro reached up and pulled the mistletoe down to take with them, Ziva chuckled.

"Oh, we will," she guaranteed with eyes that sparkled with happiness, wrapping her arm around his waist and walking from the room with him.

* * *

On New Year's Eve night on the rug in front of the fireplace in their cabin, Ziva did indeed say _Yes! _When he pulled a small black velvet box out of the same shadows that had once hidden a sprig of mistletoe, her heart thudded heavily in her chest, then pounded as joyful tears beaded down her cheeks. She then happily requested that the man she loved more than she'd ever dreamed she'd love anyone slip the sparkling diamond he held onto her left hand, beyond thrilled that he loved her back.

Afterwards, she promptly tackled him to the thick, soft rug and kissed him all over his face – just before he peeled her out of her clothes and pleased them both by kissing her over and under her captivating thermal underwear everywhere he found a sprig of mistletoe.

And as much as she adored the ring and the man who gave it to her, she was nearly as thrilled with his promised wedding present.

An indoor bathroom …

In the cabin that had given them a place to fall in love and would always be _theirs_.

_~ The End ~_

* * *

_Ahhh ... another bittersweet moment as we come to the end of this story. Well, I think it's the end. *rolls eyes at self* There's a chance I may play around with a couple of things coming to me in this universe, but nothing is fully developed. If I do, I would post it as a new, related story such as "Between and Around the Mistletoe" or something like that. :)  
_

_I'd like to rededicate this story to molly2012 for playing along with my Zibbs holiday story exchange; for providing the inspiration for this story that I really, really love; for reassuring me that I could stop fiddling with this last chapter and just post it ;); and for her unwavering friendship and support. xoxoxoxo_

_Lots of Zibbs is running through my head these days - more than I have time for! - but I sincerely hope my next posting will be an update of "Waves of Grace." (Some of you and Ziva no doubt hope so, too - the poor woman must must feel like she's pregnant with an elephant for as long as it's taking me to get that child born - ! *snort*) I do have the next chapter(s) more than started, but I'd like to get things further along before posting._

_Take care and thanks so much for reading! =)_


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